this morning i woke up with a depression hangover.

i don't know if it's coming down from the sugar, or what, but i just didn't want to get out of bed.

i didn't want to look in my closet and pick out one of the outfits that I wear every week over and over. nothing new. nothing ever new.

i didn't want to find out if my t.v. was working or not [ turns out not ] or that i didn't have enough coffee left. i didn't want to think about what i would be doing -- or not doing -- at work. i didn't want to think about my hair, or how overweight my face looks lately.

i didn't want to see the mess in my kitchen, or think about what to bring for lunch. i didn't want to think about the fact that my dad's side of the family all got together in Burlington last night and not one of them called me.

not one.

not once.

because i am just a mistake my dad made with a woman who he doesn't love anymore and so i am easily forgotten.

i didn't want to think about how i used to feel fun and cool and funny and like i was a good person to hang around with. i didn't want think about how i am no longer creative. how i don't have any decent ideas anymore.

i didn't want to think about the fact that I would be spending the entire week at home. again.

i didn't want to think about how sad i was when i left spike yesterday, and all he could think about was getting things done around his house.

i didn't want to think about money.

or the things I have been neglecting.

or the fact that I am alone.

but I got out of bed anyway. i made coffee anyway. I showered anyway and went to work anyway.

and I will do it again tomorrow. and the day after that. and nothing will ever change and I will never have anything new and i will always be easily forgotten or dismissed because i am a dust mote in a sunbeam and i'll settle on some surface with a million other motes and just eventually be wiped away.